Captured
by SWGraysonPaladinOmniChick227
Summary: (Slight Ezrabine if you squint.) After Kanan is wounded and Ezra is captured, the crew must go into the lion's den to save him. At what cost? It doesn't matter to the Ghost crew. Kanan always said he'd go to the ends of the galaxy for his Padawan. Now, he might have to. (I only added Kallus as a character bcuz he appears a lot. Ish.)
1. Chapter 1: Downfall

Chapter 1: The Fall

 **This story was kinda off the top of my head. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: WAIT! Talk to me.**

 **Me: DO YOUR FREAKING JOB!**

 **Disclaimer: FINE! Dragon owns nothing.**

* * *

It had happened so fast. Everything was just…

 _Gone._

* * *

 ***Flashback***

* * *

"RUN!" Kanan screamed.

Ezra obeyed without argument, sprinting for his life.

Explosions followed them, barrels blowing up one after another behind them.

They neared the exit when it became clear to Ezra that only one of them could make it through, as the barrel next to him was about to go, and the doors were closing. He reached outwards, holding the door with one hand, and shoving Kanan through with the other. They barely had time to look at each other before the blast rang through the air, blowing Ezra to the side and knocking Kanan to the ground and into unconsciousness.

* * *

 ***End Flashback***

* * *

Hera pursed her lips as she dressed Kanan's wound. The panicked Jedi had to be sedated, he was so worried and frantic about his Padawan. Still, she was on the verge of tears herself. After the crew had rescued Kanan from the explosion, they'd discovered that Ezra, who they'd thought died in the blast, had instead been captured by the Inquisitors. How did she know this? They'd watched the holonet. News of a captured Jedi had, for lack of a better word, _exploded._

* * *

Ezra groaned and let his head roll upwards. His eyes fluttered open, and his vision blurred in and out of focus. His head hurt, and he could smell the blood that was in his hair and on his face.

"How nice of you to join us," a distorted voice sneered.

It was the Seventh Sister. He looked at her, then gave a grin.

"Wish I could say it's my pleasure, but it really isn't," he breathed.

Her hand made contact with his face. _Hard_. He grunted and gritted his teeth.

"That the best you got?" he panted bravely.

She punched him. The rusty taste of blood filled his mouth. He groaned.

"Don't smart mouth me, you little-,"

He spit it in her face. Right between the eyes. She gasped and wiped it off with her sleeve. She shrieked angrily and extended her hand, sending waves of excruciating pain over him. Then, two rods extended on either side of him, and electricity coursed through him. He screamed in agony, struggling not to pass out. Unfortunately, the urge was too powerful.

* * *

Kanan awoke, feeling sick. He looked around for a moment, confused, then he remembered. He bolted upright.

"Whoa! Slow down!" Hera cried.

"What happened? Where's Ezra?" he inquired hurriedly.

She frowned.

"Hera?" he pressed.

"He…he was captured," she admitted sadly.

A shocked expression fell over his face.

"Is he…alive?" she asked him.

Kanan tried, but he couldn't sense his Padawan.

"I don't know. They're blocking him off from me," he sighed. He said that because the alternative was…

Hera rubbed his shoulder.

"We'll get him back. Dead or alive, we'll get him back. I promise," she assured him.

He nodded, yet there was still a sinking feeling in his stomach that something was going to go wrong.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Me: Alright! Spring Break! Time to spend it all keeping the 51 subs I have on YT! And my FF followers, of course. Hope you guys enjoyed the chappie! Next one should be out in the next few days. I promise.**

 **Disclaimer: Sure Dragon. Suuuuuure.**

 **-SWMCDC227**


	2. Chapter 2: Endurance

Chapter 2: Endurance

 **Me: OKAY GEEZE GUYS CALM DOWN! I'LL MAKE MORE! GAHD!**

 **Disclaimer: Dragon! Relax! They won't kill you, they need you to publish the story!**

 **Me: *pants* Yeah…guess you're right.**

 **Disclaimer: Dragon owns nothing. You know the drill.**

* * *

Ezra awoke painfully. Every muscle hurt, and he was starving. The door opened to reveal Kallus standing there.

"Hello, boy," he sneered.

"What, Inquisitors couldn't be bothered so they sent in their _pet_?" the teen joked.

Kallus blushed angrily, and the handle of his bo-rifle met Ezra's cheek. His head exploded with pain and he saw stars. His tooth cut the inside of his mouth and he tasted blood. It dribbled from his lips, down his chin, and onto his shirt, staining it.

"Do not _patronize_ me, child," he reprimanded.

Ezra panted heavily, shifting his eyes upward. To Kallus' surprise, he smiled slyly.

"Nah. How else will I have any fun?" he breathed.

Filled with rage, the commander swung the rifle across his face. There was a loud _snap_ and Kallus had broken Ezra's nose. It was agony for the poor boy as blood spilled from his nostrils. He yowled.

"Now, care to tell us where your friends are? Or do I need to break something else?" the older man inquired.

Ezra breathed deeply, calming down. He looked up, grinned, and spoke:

"Go to hell."

Kallus gave a smug 'hmph'

"Fine. Have it your way," he sighed. Then he slammed his weapon against Ezra's unprotected chest.

He _felt_ his ribs crack. He wanted to scream, but he was too busy trying to breathe. Kallus left Ezra gasping for air, face and shirt covered in blood.

* * *

Kanan knew what being tortured felt like. But it would be worse for Ezra. Not only was he just a child, but to the Empire, he was expendable. He knew less than most rebels, and he was still young. If they didn't get anything out of him, which he knew they wouldn't, he'd taught him better, he'd both be turned to the Dark Side and trained as an Inquisitor, or they'd kill him. And if he _was_ executed, it would be public. _Very_ public. Most likely to draw out the rebels and make an example. But Ezra was impressionable. The Dark Side waited to swallow him up as it did for all Jedi. It had once whispered to Kanan while he was in custody.

' _Only the Force can save you. Let go.'_

Thankfully, they'd gotten to him in time.

But Ezra, he couldn't take much more than that. He was too fragile. Too easy to break.

Or so he thought…

* * *

Ezra looked up at the sound of the door. Expecting Kallus, he was only mildly surprised by the Fifth Brother.

"What am I, a chew toy?" he wheezed.

The Inquisitor remained silent.

"Cause you all pass me around like one," he continued. Seeing the annoyance in the older man's (creature's?) face, he went on. "Or are you a bunch of dogs playing tug of war?"

Suddenly, he felt a tendril of the Force wrap around his leg. He gasped in surprise as it twisted and the sound of his leg cracking echoed through the cell. The pain was unbearable and he screamed in agony. Tears rolled down his cheeks, washing some of the blood away.

"Talk!" he growled.

Defiantly, Ezra stared him straight in the face.

"No," he huffed.

And so, the Fifth Brother extended his hand and electricity was lancing through the young Jedi's body.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Me: There. You're welcome. "I'm leaving, I'm gone. I can't stay here no more."**

 **Disclaimer: I'M GONNA THROW A SHOE AT YOU, SHUT UP!**

 **-SWMCDC227**


	3. Chapter 3: Hope

Chapter 3: Hope

 **Me: Okay, finally back. I've been really busy lately with school and stuff. Plus, I'm pretty ill, and my hamster just died.**

 **Disclaimer: Aww, that sucks Dragon. Glad to see you back though!**

 **Me: Glad to be back, Disclaimer.**

 **Disclaimer: Dragon owns nothing.**

* * *

Kanan ducked into Kallus' office. His armor made it hard to maneuver easily, but that was fine. He planted the bug in his computer and ran.

It had been nearly a week since Ezra was captured.

He was scared. Scared that his Padawan was already gone. Whether it be dead or under the seductive influence of the Dark Side. This wasn't just his student in danger.

This was his _family._ Hell, this was his _son_.

And he would be _damned_ if the Empire took that away from him like it did his master. He didn't want Ezra to die. _Especially_ not in the hands of those… _Sith_ scum. Just the thought of it made him sick.

* * *

Back on the _Ghost_ , Hera ran the scan on the Empire's database. The information danced across the screen.

"Okay Kanan. Do your thing," she requested.

He sighed. Focusing, he closed his eyes and extended a hand.

The others watched as the information on prisoners popped up. A sense of Déjà vu washed over Hera as the list of prisons appeared. It began to scroll slowly. Suddenly, Kanan's eyes snapped open.

"There!"

Sabine pounced forward and skimmed the page.

"A holding facility on…oh no…," she murmured, face paling.

"What? What is it? Where is he, Sabine?" Kanan asked quickly.

"He's on Coruscant."

* * *

Kallus stood with the two Inquisitors.

"The boy refuses to talk. His spirit may be able to endure the torture, but his body cannot. If this continues, he will die," he explained.

"Then so be it," said the Seventh Sister said boredly, examining her fingers.

"We _cannot_ lose him. He is too valuable," the commander contradicted angrily.

"He is not the only Force-sensitive in the galaxy, Kallus. He is replaceable," the Fifth Brother returned.

Kallus nodded. If they wanted the boy dead, then who was he to interfere?

* * *

"Coruscant? Like, the capital of the _Empire_ , Coruscant?" Zeb inquired.

"Guess they're being careful with him," she replied.

"Did you expect any less?" Kanan sighed. "How do we get to him?"

Hera frowned. "Says here there's gonna be a big prisoner transfer in two days. Guards are probably going to be really thinned out. If we can steal a shuttle, we can infiltrate that facility."

"Good idea. Sabine, can you bring up the schematics for the prison?" Kanan requested.

Sabine nodded, fingers flying across the panel. A hologram materialized. The crew scanned the building.

"The landing platform isn't an option for escape, but it will most likely be our only entrance. We would need a massive diversion to even _attempt_ an escape from there," she noted.

"True, but what other escape routes are there?" Kanan questioned.

They were silent for a moment before Hera stood up, a determined look on her face.

"I'll go ask Commander Sato if any crews are willing to join us as a diversion. It'll be a suicide mission for them, but they would know that too," she told them.

They nodded solemnly. Kanan remembered Ezra's speech.

 _'There'll be loss, and sacrifice…'_

He wasn't wrong. There would always be loss. The loss of a crew of rebels. But the reward of their sacrifice would be far greater. Ezra was not only family, but he was also a skilled fighter, and the greatest hope for a new generation of Jedi.

They could not, they _would not_ , lose him.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Me: Dying of a coughing fit right now.**

 **Disclaimer: Hope you feel better soon, Dragon, and sorry about your hamster.**

 **Me: Thanks, Disclaimer. *hugs* You're a great friend.**

 **-SWMCDC227**


	4. Chapter 4: Rescued

Chapter 4: Rescued

 **Me: Still sick. Bleh.**

 **Disclaimer: Just relax Dragon. I've got this.**

 ***This chapter was written by Disclaimer after Dragon passed out with her kitten and drooled all over her face***

 **Disclaimer: We own nothing.**

* * *

Kanan adjusted his helmet. Rex stood next to him. Sabine, fully clad in her armor and handcuffed, stood in between them. The plan? Walk right in. They stepped down the ramp of the shuttle.

"Trooper! State your business," a Stormtrooper ordered.

"We had instructions to bring this rebel scum here, sir," Rex responded.

"I heard no such orders," the man answered skeptically.

"Trooper, our orders come from Governor Tarkin. So you can take this up with him if you like," Kanan said.

The soldier cowered. "Carry on."

They passed through the doors.

"Nice work," Sabine complimented.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kanan began. "That was Hera's idea."

* * *

Ezra coughed. Fresh blood trickled down his chin, which was now drenched with red. He glanced around with heavily lidded eyes. So this was how it ended for him, huh? He could barely breathe, and every muscle ached. Sounds were muffled, and everything was blurry. He could _feel_ his body shutting down. He was dying. And he was doing it for the Rebellion. He barely noticed the door open or the footsteps approaching him. That is, until his arms and legs were free. He fell forward. Expecting to hit the cold hard floor, he landed in the warm arms of…

Sabine?

* * *

The teenage girl grunted as the caught the young Jedi. He felt so light, and he was skinny. She could tell he'd barely eaten anything and he was severely dehydrated. His hair was matted with blood, which covered most of his face.

"Dear god," Rex murmured sympathetically.

"S'bi? Wh're...," the boy slurred, confused.

"Shh…you're safe now. We've got you. You're gonna be okay," she promised tearfully.

But she was beginning to doubt that. The light was leaving his eyes, and it scared her.

"Come on, stay with me. Don't you die on me Ez," she demanded.

He forced his eyes open.

"I've got him. Let's go," Kanan said.

She nodded, and Kanan picked him up effortlessly.

Rex turned on the com-link. "Spectre 2, we need that diversion. Now. And get the med-bay ready, the kid's in bad shape,"

 _"On it Rex. Get moving,"_ Hera replied.

* * *

It had gone too smoothly. They'd lost most of the small fighter squadron that had been their distraction. Kanan sat twiddling his thumbs in front of Ezra, who was being prepped for surgery. They'd set his leg, ribs, and nose while he was under. He was in _really_ bad shape, but at least he was breathing on his own. Barely, but he was.

* * *

Ezra was heavily sedated through his leg being set and casted, but they were currently waking him up from surgery after having his ribs fixed. He looked so small and fragile. He was pale, and his hair stuck to his forehead from a fever. He needed it cut. It was a _miracle_ his injuries hadn't gotten infected, however.

"He's coming around," Hera reported.

The older Jedi moved closer.

"Ezra? Can you hear me, buddy?" he tried.

The fifteen-year-old opened his eyes halfway, obviously tired. His face twisted with pain.

"K'n'n?" he murmured sleepily.

"Right here, Padawan. Right here," he assured his student, rubbing his arm gently.

"Wha' hap'n?" he slurred.

"We got you outta there. You're gonna be fine," Kanan responded.

Ezra winced. "Hur's…"

"What? What hurts, kiddo?" he asked.

"E'ry'thin'," the boy replied.

"Alright. Just hold on a minute. Hera?" Kanan began.

"On it," she said, already holding a syringe filled with a yellowish-green liquid. Morphine, he assumed. She administered the drug.

Kanan saw it slowly take effect as Ezra's tension faded into exhaustion. His eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep as Kanan rubbed his thumb in circles on his forehead.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Disclaimer: Shh…guys, she's asleep. *glances at phone, then back at me* Ah screw it. *grabs phone and starts taking pictures.***

 **-SWMCDC227**


	5. Chapter 5: Fallout

Chapter 5: Fallout

 **Disclaimer: She's still sleeping. Damnit. Now I have to do her work.**

 ***Dragon has contorted her body into such a position that Disclaimer wonders if she is made of rubber***

 **Disclaimer: We own nothing.**

* * *

 _Devastation._

 _Debris._

 _It was terrible._

After they had rescued Ezra, the Empire, had laid waste to an innocent population on Coruscant. Their justification? Punishment. Dozens of troopers had died in the facility. So it only seemed fair to kill hundreds of men, women, and children. Few had survived, and the casualties didn't stop at just citizens. Many of their own soldiers had perished in the explosions.

Sometimes, Kanan wondered if this was even worth it. They often lost people faster than people joined. The Empire had made the statement that everything in their path would burn, leaving hundreds dead in their wake. But then, he remembered what they were fighting for. And as for the attack on Coruscant, there would be fallout. From the people of Coruscant all the way to the Outer Rim, there would be fallout.

* * *

Ezra sighed has he opened his eyes.

"Hey kiddo. How ya feelin'?" he heard Kanan ask.

"Better. It doedn't hurd as much," he answered, annoyed at the way he sounded with the bandage on his nose.

"Good. I'm glad," his master told him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Whad happened?" the teen inquired.

Kanan sighed.

"Kadad?" Ezra pressed.

Stupid broken nose.

"We rescued you. We lost a lot of people," he replied, knowing it was useless to try to lie to him.

"How mady?" he continued.

"Ezra…,"

 _"How mady?"_

The older Jedi rubbed his eyes with one hand and gripped his student's shoulder tighter with other.

"Twenty," he answered.

Ezra's eyes widened, face paling.

"Twedy people died…for me?" he breathed, horrified.

"Ezra, they knew the risks. They wanted to help you," Kanan said quickly.

"Edy more surprises?" the teen questioned.

"They wiped out a whole block on Coruscant," he replied resignedly.

Ezra looked about to throw up. He rolled on his good side and stared at the wall.

" _None_ of it is on you, Ezra," Kanan assured him.

He was silent.

* * *

"Whoa!" Ezra yelped as they helped him with his crutches.

" _Slowly_ , Padawan. Take it easy," Kanan soothed.

"It'll get better," Hera promised in a comforting voice.

"Easy for you guys to say, _you_ didn't break your legs!" Ezra snapped.

The two flinched. Noticeably.

"Sorry," the fifteen-year-old apologized, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Hera replied. "Just be patient."

He nodded, glad they'd removed the bandages from his nose. The Inquisitors hadn't just shattered his bones. They'd shattered his confidence as well. He felt weak, fragile. His guilt hadn't vanished in the past week either.

What _truly_ worried the crew was that Ezra had not laughed or smiled since being rescued. He'd not attempted to flirt with Sabine, nor brag about his scars. He'd not been… _Ezra_. Yet Kanan had found no signs of mental scarring or _any_ kind of damage. What he _did_ find was the wall that Ezra worked so hard to maintain. It kept old traumatizing memories from surfacing, and whatever scared him at bay. Of course, there was also the ever-present darkness that pressed at their minds.

It was constant, and to hold it back was tortuous for most young Jedi. But Ezra was different. He was hardly phased. Ezra once told Kanan that a voice, which he now knew to be the Dark Side, had whispered to him after his parents had disappeared. He'd been so tempted to give in, but he knew that what the voice had asked of him, to kill, to unleash his rage, went against the principles his parents taught him and drilled into his mind.

Kanan had been proud. Even before he'd taken Ezra on as a Padawan, the boy had been resisting the Dark Side's seductive call, which was nearly impossible for many younglings without help. Hell, Ezra didn't even know he was Force-sensitive when he did it, and he was only seven.

It was truly amazing.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Me: Mmm…what time is it?**

 **Disclaimer: 12:21.**

 **Me: I slept for 3 hours? Who was writing?**

 **Disclaimer: Me.**

 **Me: Oh. Thanks.**

 **Disclaimer: No problem. We're almost done anyway.**

 **-SWMCDC227**

 **Ezra translations: Doedn't=Doesn't/Hurd=Hurt/Whad=What/Kadan=Kanan/Mady=Many/Twedy=Twenty/Edy=Any**


	6. Chapter 6: The Last Thing I Do

Chapter 6: The Last Thing I Do

 **Me: Welp, finally have a bit of time.**

 **Disclaimer: After having a bit of a HTTYD fanfic addiction. You ever gonna update Snapped?**

 **Me: MAYBE!**

 **Disclaimer: Geeze. You're moody today.**

 **Me: I'M MOODY EVERYDAY!**

 **Disclaimer: Dragon owns nothing!**

* * *

Ezra rolled over in his bed, his bulky cast making a clunking sound as he did so. The cast had once been white…

Until Sabine got to it.

Now, it was covered in swirls of purple, blue, and orange. Of course, the main focal point of the human mural was the phoenix spanning most of the front and sides.

He'd been asleep through most of the "decoration." Those damn painkillers made him drowsy.

Today, it was scheduled to be removed, replaced by a custom leg brace. Once again, it'd most likely be painted by the artsy Mandalorian.

He was _supposed_ to be sleeping, but it was just _too damn quiet._ He was so used to hearing Zeb's snoring that it was impossible to fall asleep. He'd never heard a silence quite so loud. To make things worse, the painkillers were wearing off. It wasn't fun. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and sat up, fumbling for his crutches. He climbed out of bed and hobbled to the common room, collapsing onto the couch. He reached for a datapad, snagging it and turning it on. He grabbed a pair of earbuds so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping members of the _Ghost_ crew. He turned on the holonet, watching the news.

 _'Recovery has begun for the damage done to Coruscant and its Imperial prison during the rebel attacks a few weeks ago. The Empero—'_

He sighed and turned it off, opting to think for a moment. He _hated_ sleeping in the med-bay, but the sound of his cast as he tossed pissed Zeb off and Kanan wanted to keep monitoring him for some odd reason.

All those people had died because of him. He wondered if the sacrifice they'd made had been worth it. Although he had never wanted to die, he never wanted anyone to die _for_ him, either. And all those innocent citizens. They never asked for _any_ of this.

"Why, god, why. Why me? Why them? Why, why, why?" he whispered softly, closing his eyes tight.

He was fed up.

But in the end, he knew why. Without him, without the Jedi, the rebellion may have already fallen. It wasn't that he didn't believe in his friends, but with the Sith lord and the Inquisitors, it would have failed plain and simple.

He turned on some music, laying his head back against the wall.

* * *

 _["Sound of Silence" –Disturbed]_

* * *

Kanan found him passed out the next morning. He shook his head with a grin and nudged his shoulder gently.

"Come on bud, time to go," he murmured.

A sleepy Ezra nodded and let Kanan help him to his feet. He grabbed his crutches.

* * *

Sure enough, Ezra's brace almost looked like a sunset threw up on it. But he liked it. He tucked his cast away in a drawer, saving it forever.

But of course, with a broken bone meant physical therapy. A medical officer and his droid visited the ship and had him do some exercises, like bending his knee then stretching it again, moving it up and down. He'd seemed pleased, so Ezra assumed he'd done well.

For several weeks, he'd been laid up, and he was bored. Now, things were looking up. He could sort of get around on his own without crutches.

However, during his time as a prisoner, his muscles has atrophied. He could barely move them. So, the therapy allowed him to move around and walk easier.

But it couldn't erase the guilt.

 _So many people_ were dead because he'd needed to be rescued.

He vowed to fix this.

Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

 **A/N-**

 **Me: Done!**

 **Disclaimer: FINALLY! Zzzzzzzz…**

 **Me: …weirdo.**

 **-SWMCDC227**


End file.
